


Wild Nights With Rapunzel

by love_killed_the_superstar



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Kind of cheating but mostly just figuring out feelings, Kissing In The Tangled Caravan: The Fanfic, Love Triangles, Questioning, Season/Series 02, Set During TTS Season 2, Uknighted Dream in the end, got lost in the cassunzel sauce, or as I like to call it, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_killed_the_superstar/pseuds/love_killed_the_superstar
Summary: On a hot summer night, in a dreamlike moment, Rapunzel and Cassandra's lips meet.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Uknighted Dream - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	Wild Nights With Rapunzel

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK WITH SOMETHING NEW, I APOLOGISE TO ANYONE EXPECTING AN UPDATE ON MY OTHER TANGLED FIC  
> This whole piece started when some of us in the cassunzel server got talking about Raps and Cass kissing in the s2 caravan. From there I just had this really vivid imagery in my head of the hot summer night and feelings running high and kissing in the dark in the middle of the night when nothing really feels real because your vision is grainy... yeah. Got lost in the cassunzel sauce, and then it turned into a multi-chapter monster.  
> The whole of Hatchie's 'Sugar and Spice' EP has served as the perfect soundtrack for this fic. The chapter title is taken from track 2: 'Sleep'.

Twilight falls over the surrounding hills like a stifling blanket. The waves of heat that have slowly baked the road throughout the afternoon finally lose their intensity, but the slowly setting sun brings forth no sweet relief, no gentle breeze or dew on the grass to cool the air around them. Instead it's like having a cloth pulled tightly over a dish removed from the stove, hot and sweating and unbearable.

Travelling in a cramped caravan during the height of summer is no picnic, that's for sure and certain.

Eugene has been making fun of Cassandra's pit stains all day, and Cassandra has made equally cutting comments about how his hair is growing oily with the humidity. Rapunzel learned pretty early on in their collective friendship how to tune out the arguments, but on a day like this there's only so much she can take between the dry glare of the sun and the bickering in her ears. Pascal has been at his wits end too, sharing many an exasperated look with her as the day has drawn on.

They've gone through almost all their water supply for the day, so they stop to set up camp in a clearing a half mile away from a river cutting through the valley. It brings forth a slight coolness to the air, making it a little easier to breathe, but it's still a vicious fight to determine which lucky two get to make the blissful journey to the river to refill their water barrels while the others start on dinner. In the end, Hookfoot and Lance win out, leaving the trio to make a start on dinner while Shorty dozes on, oblivious that they've even stopped.

The meal prep goes without a hitch, with Eugene setting up a fire for the night to do some outdoor cooking while Cassandra and Rapunzel slice up the vegetables, but once the stew is set to simmer the bickering starts up again.

“You're sweating right into the stew,” Eugene marvels. Cass stirs in lacklustre silence, trying not to rise to his comment. “Is this your way of being frugal with the seasoning until our next supply stop?”

“Don't even start,” Cass growls, reaching up to wipe at her brow even so. She pushes back her damp bangs and sighs heavily. “This heat is punishment enough without you messing with me.”

“I mean, It's more of a health concern than a personal attack,” he begins, before Rapunzel interrupts.

“Please, you two, I can't take another moment of this. Can't we just... preserve our energy? With good cheer instead of bickering? I'm sure when it's cooled down in a few days we'll laugh about this!"

"If we don't get sick from the stew and die," mutters Eugene. From Rapunzel’s shoulder Pascal chirps in exasperation as if to say, _damn it, here we go again._

"You wanna get over here and help then, Fitzherbert? I've been driving all day."

"Oh, you mean vaguely instructing Max and Fidella, the two most capable horses I've ever met? That doesn't exactly count for much, Cassandra."

“And I suppose _you_ of all people would have a firm grasp on what it means to steer a caravan through some seriously narrow paths in this kind of heat, all while some grating voice is reciting Flynn Rider stories and stopping to do _character voices_?!”

“Enough! Come on, guys! We’ve all had a long day, we’re all exhausted. Please, just stop,” Rapunzel pleads. The two glare at each other, before Cass stands up and flippantly gestures to her seat.

“If you’re so concerned about the state of the stew, maybe _you_ should take over,” she says icily.

“Oh, I will,” he huffs, taking her seat and reaching for the ladle. “And don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find a seasoning that will mellow out the taste of _dragon lady sweat!”_

“Come on, I’m serious! Enough, both of you!”

Cass storms back to the caravan with a thunderous expression, and Rapunzel shoots Eugene a disapproving look before following after her. When she catches up with her Cass is already reaching for her armoury, a sure sign of her needing to work off some pent up rage.

“Hey,” Rapunzel says gently, watching her from the doorway. “You know Eugene was just teasing, right? You weren’t actually, you know, dripping into the stew.”

“Why does he do this?” Cass snaps, unsheathing her sword and watching as it glints off the intense sunlight coming through the window. “When he knows we’re all at the end of our ropes, why does he still have to poke fun at the most useless things? I don’t know how you stand him when he gets all obnoxious like this, I really don't.”

“I don’t either!” she sighs, rolling her eyes and leaning against the doorframe. “He _can_ be obnoxious sometimes, I won’t deny that. But I love him, so I manage somehow. And you know, the _both_ of you need to exercise some patience sometimes.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am.” Rapunzel folds her arms. “Cass, we all have to live under one roof right now. We’re going to get under each other’s skin from time to time, but can I count on you to try to rise above it?”

Cass begrudgingly returns her sword to its sheath, eyes narrowed. “Only if you tell Fitzherbert to quit being such a jerk.”

“I’ll give it my best,” Rapunzel promises solemnly. She holds out her hand to shake and Cassandra, after a beat of hesitation, meets her halfway. Rapunzel cocks her head to the side. “Hey, you know what?”

“What?”

“I think you should take some time to cool off.”

Cass looks a little offended. “Rapunzel, I just said I’d play nice.”

“You don’t get it.” Rapunzel tugs her hand and Cass begrudgingly leaves the caravan with her. Eugene glances back at them from his seat and she calls to him. “Eugene, we’re going to cool off. I trust that we’re leaving the stew in very capable hands.”

“Wait, you’re both going? But Lance and Hookfoot aren’t back yet!” he protests.

“They’ll be along soon enough. Besides, you’ve got Shorty to keep you company,” Rapunzel says cheerily. “Come on, Cass, let’s get our things together.”

Eyebrows raised, Cass smirks. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry Fitzherbert, you heard her.”

Grumbling under his breath, he returns to poking at the fire as the stew bubbles on. Cass disappears into the caravan for a moment, returning shortly with their towels and small clutch bag of toiletries. Rapunzel takes the bag, smiling sadly down at its familiar emblem of their home, before taking Cassandra’s hand again and leading her into the woods.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Cass says as they weave in between the trees. “I was serious when I said I’d be nicer to Eugene.”

“Well, who wants to be stuck over a hot cooking pot on a day like this?” Rapunzel points out, waving her arm dismissively. “Besides, you could both use some time away from each other, your arguing has been melting my head today.”

The sound of rushing water grows louder and they soon find a small waterfall and follow the bank down to where the water runs a little deeper. Hookfoot and Lance have clearly been off swimming, and are pulling on their shirts as the girls approach.

“What happened to bringing back the water, did you fall in?” Cass asks flatly.

“Cruel of you to expect us to walk all the way down here and not even wash away the dirt and grime of the day,” Lance sighs, shaking his head. “Well, ladies, the water’s great. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Yeah, don’t think we’re slacking off just cause we took some time for ourselves,” Hookfoot adds, reaching over to slap the side of one of their water barrels, emphasising the sound of the water sloshing inside. Lance hoists the other one up to his shoulder, grunting a little at the weight, and the two of them lug the barrels away as they disappear into the trees.

“Well, there they go.” Cass sets the towels down on a nearby rock and takes the bag from Rapunzel’s hands, rummaging through for bars of soap and some shampoo.

“That just means we have the water to ourselves,” Rapuzel says with a shrug. She sets Pascal down in the shallows and he squeaks happily at the change in temperature. “Let’s hurry and wash off so we can get back in time for dinner.”

“Just don’t jump in, okay? We don’t know how cold or deep it is,” Cass warns, cautious as ever when it comes to water. Rapunzel glances around, double-checking that the two of them are definitely alone, before wriggling out of her clothes. She hasn’t been wearing her corsets since they set off on the road and on days as hot as this, she’s all the more grateful for it.

Ignoring Cassandra’s warning and plunging waist-deep into water so cold it squeezes the air from her lungs, Rapunzel's mind is completely numb, filled only with the notion that everything is freezing. She cries out as she holds onto her hair, keeping the braid bunched up above the surface as best she can to avoid getting it wet so close to dusk.

From behind her Cassandra steps out of the last of her clothes, and Rapunzel turns her head to admire the sight for a few drawn out moments, unaware of the way her teeth are chattering audibly until Cass calls, “I told you it was a bad idea to jump in.”

Cassandra's muted amusement alerts her that she's been caught staring. Rapunzel averts her eyes quickly (it's not like her mind will forget all the fascinating shapes that make up Cass's bare body, after all) and keeps her back turned until she hears Cass slip in somewhere behind her. There's another splash as she submerges her head fully; and then a spluttering gasp as she rises once more, shaking her head back as the cold sets in.

The air above feels all the warmer with the freezing water churning around them. Rapunzel washes off the dirt and sweat from the long day as efficiently as she can while holding up her hair with one hand, trying not to glance back at Cass too often. Once or twice their eyes meet, and Cass reaches over to send a tidal splash Rapunzel's way.

"Stop peeking," she chides, though there's no real embarrassment to it; after months on the road, privacy is basically nonexistent.

"I'm not! And don't splash me, Cass, you know how long it takes for my hair to dry out!" Rapunzel protests. "The sun will be going down soon!"

"The hot air will take care of that. Besides, damp hair on a night like this will cool you down, you'll be thankful for it."

"Sure, but it's really heavy! I might need some help carrying it back to the caravan if it gets wet."

"Luckily for you, I have the upper body strength to handle that." Cass smirks as she folds her arms, and Rapunzel is glad for the excuse to allow her gaze to linger.

"I'll be holding you to that." Somewhat encouraged by the sight, Rapunzel impulsively lets go of her braid, and it tumbles into the water with a loud splash that sends spray into both of their faces. Cass leans back, face screwed up as she blinks through the spray.

“Eugh! Okay. All right, we’re doing this then.”

“Well, it’s like you said,” Rapunzel says, grinning at Cassandra’s bemused expression, “I’ll be thankful for it later, won’t I?”

…

It's barely gone ten when the darkness finally falls, a deep blue cloak of night sky dappled with thick grey clouds, but it's scratchy and muggy and they can almost _see_ the dusty heat above their heads.

After dinner they spend a few hours around the campfire, watching the sun disappear behind the trees and talking about whatever comes to mind to pass the time. Eugene and Lance spin some tales from their thieving days, stories of a great heist that are no doubt heavily embellished to paint them in a heroic light to appeal to Rapunzel’s strong sense of justice. A bottle of rum is passed around, which Rapunzel notices Cass refuses to drink from, and the night grows merry until Hookfoot begins to snore against Lance’s shoulder and the group decides to draw the evening to a close.

Rapunzel kisses Eugene goodnight and follows Cass into the girls’ quarters, changing into her nightclothes and realising, disappointed, that her hair has almost dried from the warm air temperature. She puts Pascal to bed and climbs in beside Cassandra, murmuring goodnight before laying back and staring up at the ceiling.

It's so stiflingly quiet at night, Rapunzel feels like she can't even move.

Occasionally a globe of light passes by the windows – fireflies? Moonlight peeking between the clouds? She can't tell. It's hard to focus without becoming overly-aware of her breathing and consequently feeling her entire respiratory system collapse under the pressure of remembering how to breathe in and out, so she shuts her eyes and tries to drink in the earth around her.

The caravan creaks every so often, although without any breeze, she isn't too sure why. From just beyond the wall dividing the caravan, she can hear the faintest of snores, accompanied by a slight whistle – if she has to guess, probably Shorty. The crickets outside are playing their orchestra under the moonlight, chirping monotonously to the rhythm of spots swimming in her vision as her eyes adjust to darkness. She turns her head to the left of her.

And then there is Cass.

Cass, who lies next to her in only her camisole and bloomers, too bothered by the heat to cover up further. Cass, with her strong, toned arms folded over her skinny chest, staring up at the ceiling with painful discipline, counting each board, each chip in the wood, each screw holding the caravan together with dutiful precision. Her lips quiver slightly as she does, counting under her breath, barely audible. It's something she always does when drifting off to sleep, so even while barely visible Rapunzel knows the exact face she's making. Her nose wrinkles, her brow furrows, and her jaw is tense. She grinds her teeth in her sleep sometimes, from all the stress she carries around on her back like a pack mule. It's become a white noise in its own right, and Cass always shrugs it off when Rapunzel tries to bring it up, so at this point it's just another instrument in this symphony of an insufferable summer night.

Tonight is no different from any other night, but Rapunzel finds herself rolling over anyway, so all that fills her vision is the grainy, dimly lit shadow of Cassandra. Just seeing her lying there, hair still damp from the river, makes Rapunzel's heart sing.

“Cass,” she murmurs.

“Hmm?”

“It's so quiet that it's loud. Like a roaring in my ears.”

Cass shrugs her shoulders dismissively. “Try to ignore it? Sleep will come soon.”

“I can't. I feel like some hot itchy blanket is being pulled over me.”

“If you give it agency like that of course you'll keep awake. Sleep above the covers if you want, it'll be fine on a night like this.”

“But if I'm on top of the covers and you're beneath, it'll constrict you.”

“Then we can push the beds apart, it's fine.”

“No!” Raps hisses, wriggling closer. “No, that isn't necessary. Uh. I can sleep under the covers. No problem.”

Cass huffs in amusement and says nothing.

When exactly did they start pushing the beds together at night? It’s hard to remember, when all nights stretch out the same. Maybe it was after the incident where Rapunzel was almost lost to the mind of a bird forever? Cass had certainly been clingy that night, more so than she’d ever been back in Corona.

(“I don’t want to lose you like that ever again,” she had confided that night, with only inches between them, reaching over with trembling fingers to stroke the edges of Rapunzel’s hair. “Swear to me, Raps. Swear that you’ll let me protect you next time.”

Rapunzel had sighed and reached over herself, tracing the worry lines that marred Cassandra’s brow and fixing her face with the most reassuring smile she could muster. “You won’t lose me, Cass. But it’s a two-way street. From now on, let me protect you too?”)

With all the danger they’ve seemed to run into since starting life on the road, there’s something comforting about crawling into bed each night and being able to feel Cassandra’s presence beside her. It isn’t the first time she’s found herself lying here in the dark, aching for something in this atmosphere to shift, for something to give or break just so that the tiniest space between them can be bridged.

But what, she often wonders, would come after that?

Rapunzel doesn't know how long time stretches on in that creaking caravan. So long that it seemingly shifts into a whole new world, where everything is pitch black and grainy, nature sounds different, time stands still. Nothing feels quite real, not even her own fidgeting hands and flexing toes.

Is she asleep? Is Cass asleep? There's no foolproof way of knowing, but it certainly feels like an out of body experience as she lies there, quietly baking. Cass won't let them crack open the windows for security reasons ("What if a bandit tries to rob us and finds you instead?" She always says. "What if they recognise you and bring back your head for Baron or some other enemy we've made on our travels? Can you account for that? Do you think I could take losing you like that?!") so instead Rapunzel is resigned to slow-cooking to death, basted in a sheen of her own sweat.

She shifts a little and her arm brushes against Cassandra's elbow. Something akin to a static shock makes them both flinch back, and Rapunzel shivers. Something about being alone with Cass in this witching hour feels cosmic, and she rolls over to drink in the dim outline of her only to find that Cassandra's head is tilted towards her too.

"Cass," she murmurs, so softly it feels closer to exhaling. There's no response. Rapunzel inches closer, against her better judgement, and reaches across to ghost a finger across Cassandra's forearm. There's no flinch this time. The air particles are dancing all around them, clouding Rapunzel's limited vision, distorting the details. Reality feels two feet away, and Rapunzel is floating at the frayed edges of it. It's her, Cass, and the creaking walls of the caravan, alone in the world.

She scoots closer still, and their faces are so close, all of a sudden. Wide eyes stare back at her in the darkness, desaturated by the night, glassy and watching her completely unguarded. A rarity for Cass, who typically keeps enough walls up to consider herself a self-regulated fortress, even around Rapunzel. _It's fantasy,_ she realises. It's an illusion of Cass, an electrifying, intimate illusion, concocted from her heat-hazed memories of quiet glances while driving, secret smiles over dinner, sneaking glances while bathing together. The hush of it all feels deafening, in a way that only dreams do.

Rapunzel reaches over, emboldened by this version of Cass that is like a mirage in the desert. It all feels real, but doesn't it always when one is dreaming? Her hand moves up her arm, creeping slowly at first; rests at the base of her neck, where there's a nervous gulp that pulses against her palm.

 _What would I do without her?_ Rapunzel throws out to the floor. _Wouldn't I cry right now if she wasn't beside me?_

Rapunzel feels a hand grazing her own arm, fingers curling around nervously, not quite comfortable with being there - and her heart could burst right here and now. Is it possible to be closer than this? All she can do to keep from shaking is to reassure herself that this is all fantasy, her mind running rogue with the possibilities of _her_ and _Cass_ and _what they could do to one another._

Cassandra's hands are weathered, firm. The sensation is different, decidedly un-dreamlike, but that difference just makes Rapunzel want her more. Her own hand moves further still, smoothing across Cassandra's angular jaw, and Cass murmurs, "Raps?" so faintly it could have easily been the rustling of blankets.

In an ordinary moment in time, their lips meet.

Rapunzel never knew kissing could be quite as electrifying as this. Kissing Eugene is wonderful, of course, and still gives her butterflies after all this time, but she could just as easily be walking into the heart of a storm right now from the lightning running through her. Cassandra, tentative at first, begins to kiss back with urgency, as if the dam holding back these wanton urges has finally burst. Rapunzel shifts in closer to Cass, pulling her in so there’s no space left between them both. Her fingers reach up, tangle themselves in Cassandra’s unruly hair, finding it still damp to the touch and smelling strongly of the river - cold, intoxicating. Every fibre of her being thrums and boils over, overwhelming the senses and sending her reeling through something so sublime that she could only really pin it down, plain and simply, as lust.

This ecstasy, this _Casstacy_ , is something she could happily drink up until the world ends, caustic to her emotional balance as it may be. But life, sadly, doesn’t play out like the pages of a sketchbook, lingering on the heart of the matter for as long as she desires. Also, a need for oxygen wins out against all nerve endings in her body begging for the moment to last.

When they break apart, both breathing heavily, Rapunzel drinks in every last detail of the scene before her. She wants to memorise it, keep the memory alive until she wakes from this trance and can pour it onto paper, forever her sight to behold. Cassandra’s cheeks are alight with colour, eyes bright and wide with both glee and terror, churning into one messy emotion laid out before her that Rapunzel has no name for. Her lips, slick from their kiss, tremble between laboured breaths. Her skin shimmers with sweat, highlighted faintly from a shaft of moonlight streaming in from the window above their heads, and Rapunzel can make out goosebumps creeping along her exposed arms as they lie there in a dumbfounded silence.

“Woah,” Rapunzel whispers, running her thumb across the crease beneath Cass’s eye. “Cass, I… _woah_.”

The words seem to warp this dream away, stretching it out so thin that when Cassandra bolts upright, with such force Rapunzel falls back against the sheets with a thud, it’s almost as though a real bubble has burst around them. She untangles her legs from the sheets and staggers to her feet, unable to look back at Rapunzel even once before shakily unlatching the door to the caravan and bursting out into the deafening quiet of the night. Her ragged gasps grow quieter as she puts some distance between them, and Rapunzel stares at the door, left ajar in Cassandra’s haste to leave.

That… _was_ a dream, right? The only sound louder than the creak of the caravan door is the drumming of her heart against her chest, alive and swelling from a wild night in Rapunzel’s dreamscape. Her mind is telling her to follow Cass, to see if she’s all right, but in classic dream fashion she feels anchored to the bed, legs growing heavy at the thought of confronting Cass at all. _None of this is real,_ she has to remind herself as she lies there in anxious silence. _There are no stakes to this._

When morning comes, Cassandra will be well rested and greeting her with the same smile as always, asking how she slept while finishing up her light morning routine of dicing apples perfectly for the group’s breakfast. Nothing about this night has to change reality, but even so… something about this dream felt so much better than what her imagination could conjure.

When sleep finally comes, she dreams of nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably update sporadically because I don't have a chapter buffer ready like with my cass/cassunzel week fics. But it's fun and we're having a really hot summer here in the UK so for as long as there are hot summer nights, I'll probably carry on writing this. Let me know what you think!


End file.
